I Dare You to Tell Me to Walk Through Fire

[Ethan Neufeld 0]

“The Verbistul shuttle is nearly there with the backup team.”

 

“I'd be careful about inviting them aboard, Joe. Evade.”

 

“That's not exactly in my hands, Pher. Captain Maxwell insisted that they ignore my authority…”

 

 

 

Sun to the shuttle’s baffles, the aged Constellation-class starship loomed brightly in its forward viewport; the distinct Aztec pattern of her hull panels blooming from an illusory solid ghost-gray, as the stellar distance between them rapidly closed. In the cabin lighting -- dimmed in-flight to reduce eyestrain and internal glare -- the co-pilot’s console cast a grim pall on unsmiling lips of the Verbistul’s Security Chief and the severe gaze she laid on the Capricorn. They would soon know the firestorm of Alexsha Vi Dantinamede.

 

“Five minutes,” Kelin th'Les announced at the helm.

 

“Roger. Hailing Capricorn Flight Control for final.” Alex’s eyes leapt to the console in front of her and she called up the interface for the shuttle’s subspace radio. She didn’t expect to receive from anyone other than the Capricorn, and left the radio in the scanning mode she had programmed. She cycled from the Verbistul’s private frequency to the standard accepted for ship-to-ship communications in Bull’s Head. Halfway to keying the hailing signal and opening the two-way channel with the Capricorn, she stared in stupefied wonder as the frequency abruptly auto-cycled and the cabin’s speakers came to life. Hearing it in the rear of the shuttle, Mr. Gotte and two additional Verbistul personnel stifled their private conversation to listen.

 

“---mp-s-i-le---a tha oi-t ere ere -t-l or-n vi-s -n -ur---st-m --- we d-d-n ha- c-tro -et -nd -il do- -par-nt-y---” it began and continued in the same broken fashion for a few seconds more.

 

“Is that the Capricorn?” Kelin asked; “Why is there interfer---?”

 

“Shh!” Alex waved him silent as a second transmission on the same frequency hit their receiver, repeating a broken pattern like one before it. From the rear, the rest of the shuttle’s passengers moved forward and crowded near the pilots’ seats. There was deep attentiveness on the Security Chief’s face, and Kelin watched in puzzlement as she began to rhythmically tap her finger on the lip of her console and then gradually smiled. The second transmission filled roughly the same frame as the first.

 

“Don’t tell me,” Kelin remarked.

 

“Oh, yeah,” she replied and keyed up the channel in push-to-talk. “Scarecrow, Dorthy; read you. Good to hear you. Send. Over.”

 

Kelin withheld his next question; the receiver had picked up another transmission. As he listened, he began to realize that he was hearing a number of different voices in the short on-cycle; some seemed angry but even those that weren’t carried a level of urgency. All were, from the sound, a few feet or more from the actual radio and somewhat muffled; at least two had the quality of being transmitted twice, as though one radio was picking up another. He wondered why the sender insisted on pure on-off keying rather than using voice or tones. He also noticed the threatening edges of a frown creeping into Alex’s expression.

 

“Scarecrow,” Alex replied to the mysterious sender. “Negative; these crows are not scared. Say again, negative. Over.”

 

“What’d they say; who is it?” Kelin asked in the brief gap between transmissions.

 

“Some guy on the Capricorn has taken most of the Qob crew and our guys hostage---dunno why. But I’ve been told to waveoff.”

 

Alex didn’t explain who the sender was and didn’t have time to try before they were receiving the next transmission. Kelin didn’t recognize the code being used, yet he tried to listen more closely to the voices in the background -- to get an idea of the situation and if the sender was indeed one of the hostages as he suspected. But it seemed before they could finish, Alex had stabbed the push-to-talk on their end.

 

“That’s my job, p'tak!” she said, forgetting radio procedure in her frustration. “You’re ko if you think I’m gonna sit around while you’re all trapped. I’m not a coward!” Alex released the button and then stabbed it again, adding: “Over.”

 

From the best Kelin could surmise, the sender again tried to persuade her to waveoff, but she cut them off just as quickly. “Shut it! I’m doing my job! Dorthy, out!” She promptly paused the frequency scanning program.

 

Cycling over to ship-to-ship, she opened two-way communications. “Capricorn, this is Verbistule-02 requesting clearance for final; over.”

 

As she awaited their response, from the corner of her eye she caught Kelin staring at her and said: “With me?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

 

 

Ethan frowned and subtly exhaled at the voice that shouted in his earpiece. He’d overheard the discussion between Pher and Joe; the mention of a shuttle on approach from the Verbistul and Joe’s claim that it was out of his hands. Bad news: the cluster known as Capricorn was attracting more clusters like some kind of black hole.

 

Ford was clearly in a paranoid state and they had zero intel on how many of his crewmates were following him or what systems were under his control. The shuttle could be flying into the unsympathetic sights of a torpedo tube. It certainly wouldn’t help anyone if the shuttle’s crew was also captured or their presence escalated the situation. Until they knew more or could better coordinate, he agreed with Pher and there was no question in Ethan’s mind that the shuttle must be waved off. The shuttle should wait in reserve pending a resolution with Ford or a call for force.

 

When no one else appeared to volunteer for the task of warning the shuttle, Ethan had decided to take it upon himself. He had loosely folded his arms over his carrier, pinning one hand beneath his upper arm and draping the other on the pouch containing his radio. Though he could take a fair guess, he didn’t know who was in the shuttle, its call sign or if they were even monitoring the frequency he intended using. But he knew Alex would monitor what they had pre-arranged for private communications. Cycling the frequencies by memory, he had begin subtly keying Morse code through the push-to-talk button, his thumb appearing to take on a nervous tick as it tapped against the closed pouch. He called Alex, hoping she was either aboard the shuttle or could forward the message quickly enough.

 

No doubt, though Pher hadn’t done the same, she would have preferred that he consult her before he tried contacting Alex. But this was another exigent circumstance for which he was more than willing to bend her protocol; lives were at stake. There wasn’t time to discuss it. More importantly, he didn’t think it was wise to advertise their activities with a neon sign and potentially escalate Ford. Given the other man’s state, it was surprising to Ethan that Ford hadn’t yet commented on Pher’s radio activities or tried to counter them, much less retaliated.

 

He also knew that Ford could easily detect and triangulate his transmissions and trying to hide what he was doing might be the thing that would escalate the other man. Ethan was taking a chance; counting on the fact that the frequency generally wasn’t used or monitored. He was counting that Ford was too distracted or not paranoid enough to start combing the entire spectrum for things that may or may not be there. Perhaps Ford wouldn’t realize what he was hearing if he did -- hard to say how much he might figure out if he caught Ethan, given Alex hadn’t been exactly smart with her responses.

 

Calmly, Ethan started tapping again, attempting to re-establish contact with Alex after her outburst, but it soon became clear she’d stopped listening. Well, it wasn’t for a lack of trying, he assured himself.

Edited September 16, 2011 by Ethan Neufeld